Is it Tiny Tim’s time?
Although this isn’t Charles Dickens’ Tiny Tim Cratchit we’re talking about, nearly everybody in England will act like it’s Christmas and cry “God bless us every one!” if Tim Henman is able to erase the curse of male impotence at Wimbledon that has existed since 1936.
Sixty-eight years have passed since the last Limey, Fred Perry, won Wimbledon (a third successive time), backboned his country’s possession of the Davis Cup and Britannia ruled the tennis waves. Not quite as debilitating as the 86-year-old “Curse of the Bambino” that keeps Bostonians quaking, but tell that to the English.
The poor English. Although they were the introducers of the game as we know it in 1874, they haven’t been able to play it for decades.
Except for “Our Tim,” as he is fondly regarded by the home folks (or sometimes sarcastically referred to by those who think he’s been a flop in coming so close — semifinal finishes in 1998-99, 2001-02 — without smoking the cigar). Red Sox degenerates can relate to that.
As this edition approaches, opening today, Henmania once again sweeps the land, along with prayers that Tiny Tim will somehow master the Big W.
To be accurate, this Tiny Tim isn’t tiny at all (6 feet 1), yet pale and rather spindly and vulnerable looking. A decided gentleman in upbringing, appearance and behavior, he doesn’t quite seem the guy to storm the lofty ramparts of the oldest tournament to overpower the foreign legions that have made it their property since Perry.
Why hasn’t Henman, whose style is serve-and-volley, the predominant mode of past champions, gone all the way on his favorite terrain, the lawns of the All England Club? He had a Pete problem: Pete Sampras, the all-time Wimbledon champ, knocked him out in 1998-99. But with Sampras gone, why? There was the problem of Pete’s winner’s circle successors: Goran Ivanisevic in 2001 and Lleyton Hewitt in 2002.
But for Henman, now 29, this looks like the best — last? — opportunity. His quarterfinal defeat by Sebastien Grosjean a year ago is written off as occurring during a period of recovery from shoulder surgery. But he’s superbly fit now. And the countless hopers are greatly encouraged by his totally unlooked-for success at his previously worst major championship: a French Open semifinal appearance.
“Usually I’ve been back in England, practicing on grass, after a couple of days of the French,” he laughs. “But the French this year was a real confidence builder.”
John Barrett, former British Davis Cup captain and longtime tennis commentator for the BBC, and among the eternal hopers, thinks, “Tim has done a great job, whatever happens. While some say he’s underachieved, I think he’s overachieved, considering the pressure he’s under. No other player in the game labors beneath the expectations anywhere near those that Tim carries at Wimbledon. And he does it in very good spirit.”
“The game has been very good to me,” Henman said. Winning 11 titles, he will this year cross the $10 million mark in prize money for a 12-year pro career.
His endorsement portfolio, with performance bonuses, reaps a tidy sum, probably approaching $2 million a year. He has worn Adidas togs and played with a Slazenger racket from the beginning. Jaguar is the car he backs and drives. Other sponsors are Robinson’s Barley Water and Ariel, a detergent. He gets about $40,000 annually for patriotic service on the Davis Cup team. Henman is, in fact, the Davis Cup team.
But can this very nice young man banish the curse?
I am among the hopers. Imagine the jubilation if he triumphs. Knighthood, for sure. Sponsors will line up across the British Isles. A monument would be raised to him on “Henman Hill,” the slope behind Court 1, packed by Henmaniacs watching a giant TV screen and screaming for their man. The possibilities and rewards are endless.
I used to see Fred Perry every year at Wimbledon. We agreed that it would be terrific to witness an Englishman winning the kingdom’s championship before we died. Fred didn’t make it, departing at 85 in 1995, and I’m feeling a little mortal myself.
Bud Collins writes occasionally for SportsBusiness Journal.
